


far above rubies

by empressearwig



Category: Pink Carnation Series - Lauren Willig
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Honeymoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 07:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6229543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empressearwig/pseuds/empressearwig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lord Vaughn gives his new bride a gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	far above rubies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katayla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katayla/gifts).



> Surprise! Or not. 
> 
> At any rate, I hope you like this, Katayla! I thoroughly enjoyed revisiting this world and these characters.

The Vaughns did not take a wedding trip. 

Society gossiped about this, of course, as society was wont to gossip about anything to do with the still mostly mysterious Lord Vaughn. There was a faction who believed the happy couple could not travel abroad because Vaughn was a wanted man on the continent and another who thought that it was a scheme on the part of the former Miss Alsworthy to secure the continuation of the line as soon as humanly possible. Besides these, there were other rumors, more outlandish still, but as was usually the case with unrestrained gossip, the truth was far simpler, and in this case, made up of two parts.

The first reason the Vaughns did not take a wedding trip was that Lord Vaughn was still recovering from his gunshot wound and at the advice of physicians and the demand of his new bride, acquiesced to the notion that prolonged travel might not be the most prudent course of action at the present time. The second reason, by contrast, was rather more mercenary.

Simply put, the new Lady Vaughn wished to avail herself of the London shops.

This amused her new husband, who was indulging his wife shamelessly. After all, long before they'd fallen in love, long before he'd liked her, Vaughn had admired her for her naked self-interest. Besides, the pair of them were in firm agreement as to the necessity of maintaining one's station, and the elevation from mere miss to countess required more lavish raiment than Mary had been accustomed to wearing.

So the pair of them sequestered themselves in Vaughn's Mayfair manse, eschewing visitors and generally doing exactly as they pleased. It was a wedding trip in all but destination, and both parties could not have been more pleased with the arrangement. 

But all good things must end, and so it was with the Vaughns self-imposed exile. They were expected to join Mary's family in the country for Christmas with the Dowager Duchess of Dovedale and her insipid granddaughter. Mary was not looking forward to the occasion. She had only accepted the invitation so she could throw her marital status in the Dowager Duchess's smug, old face, but still, she wasn't certain that the joy of that would be worth the cost.

She mentioned this to Vaughn one evening, not long before their planned departure. 

They were lounging before the fire in Vaughn's bedchamber, tangled together on an exceedingly soft settee. In truth, it had become more their bedchamber, as Mary refused to cross the threshold of the adjoining room until all traces of the previous countess had been removed and preferably burned. But it was not an easy task to mentally reassign Vaughn's chamber from his to _theirs_ , for he tended to leave indelible stamps.

On rooms. On fashion. On her.

Vaughn looked amused at her concern about their forthcoming plans. "Of course it will be terrible," he said. He shuddered theatrically. "House parties are so rarely anything else, after all."

Mary raised an imperious eyebrow at him. "I believe you propositioned me at a house party, my lord."

"I did say rarely," returned Vaughn. He caught Mary's hand in his own and brought it to his lips. "And that was business, my love."

"Hm," said Mary. She tried to look affronted, but did not tug her hand away. "Must we engage in such radical honesty?"

Vaughn kissed the inside of her wrist, with a glint in his eyes. "I suppose not," he drawled. "After all, that is certainly not a story we will be able to tell our children someday."

"Certainly not," Mary echoed, with her breath caught in her chest. 

Looking smug, Vaughn tugged her to him and kissed her, and after that, Mary did not think of anything but him for quite some time.

***

When she woke, Mary was alone in their bed. She pushed herself up on her elbows, in the dim room, to look for her husband. She spotted him at his desk, taking something from the drawer. "Sebastian?"

He turned, with the object still in his hands. Mary's breath caught; it was large and it was flat and it looked suspiciously like a jewel box. She didn't dare to hope, but--

"Is that--" she started to ask, and was cut off by Vaughn's laughter.

"Yes, my greedy countess," he said, crossing the room and climbing the dais to return to her side. "It is."

Mary did not snatch the box from his hands, but it was a very near thing. To finally be in the near proximity of the Vaughn rubies, let alone close to having them in her possession, well, her excitement was total.

She loved Vaughn, she well and truly did. She had not married him for his money or his title, though she would admit that those things had certainly not hurt his suit.

But the rubies. Mary was small enough to admit just how badly she wanted them.

"Close your eyes," Vaughn said. 

Mary's eyes snapped sideways in shock. "What?"

"Close your eyes," Vaughn repeated. "Or do I need a blindfold?"

Mary flushed. He hadn't meant it that way, of course, but a month of marriage had taught her things that she had not entirely expected. She closed her eyes.

"That's better," said Vaughn, sounding amused. 

There was a rustling and the bed shifted ever so slightly beneath them. Something cool draped around Mary's neck and she reached for it automatically, only to have her hands batted away. 

"Be good," said Vaughn.

Mary's hands curled into frustrated fists, but she did not reach for her neck again. She was rewarded by something being clasped around one wrist and then another. Vaughn took her right hand in his and straightened her fingers, so that he could slip a hefty ring onto one of them. 

"Are you quite finished?" she asked, almost desperately. She wanted--no, she needed-- to see.

Vaughn chuckled. "One last thing."

A weight settled onto her head, and Mary could bear it no longer. She bolted from the bed, keeping the tiara on her head by some miracle of chance and years of deportment lessons. She stopped in front of Vaughn's dressing mirror, unabashedly nude and bedecked in the most beautiful jewels that she'd ever seen. 

Rubies and diamonds gleamed at her throat, her wrists, her hand. They shimmered and reflected from atop her fall of raven hair. They were more beautiful than the most beautiful things Mary had ever dreamt. 

"You look like a queen," said Vaughn, coming to stand being her. "My queen."

In the mirror, she looked at him consideringly. "Could you?"

"No," said Vaughn, choking off a laugh. "You are the greediest person that I know. Aren't the rubies enough?"

Mary looked at herself in the mirror once more. "A virtuous woman's price is far above rubies, you know."

Vaughn turned her and took her into his arms. "It is lucky for me, that neither of us is virtuous then."


End file.
